Please Don't Say You Love Me
by Molly.xx
Summary: Good and bad are not always as black and white as it seems, and house divides can sometimes be broken. Is it fate or is it a force so much stronger than themselves that brings this pair together? Can they fight it, or are they losing from the start? Not really fluffy. Bit of a weird pairing, please just give them a chance, maybe you'll love them as much as I do. I AM NOT JK ROWLING


"Just please don't say you love me,  
Cause I might not say it back,  
Doesn't mean my heart stops skipping  
When you look at me like that  
There's no need to worry when  
You see just where we're at  
Just please don't say you love me  
Cause I might not say it back."

-Gabrielle Aplin, please Don't Say You Love Me.

The water surrounds me, suffocates me, becomes part of me. My clothes become heavier, it feels like my insides are expanding, my arms feel like iron weights have been tied to them.

Is this what it feels like to die?

I smile to myself as the final bubbles of air trickle from the corner of my mouth, I felt like I was floating, like it was all a dream..

But it wasn't. This was cold, hard reality. I was dying. And the funny thing was? I didn't even seem to care. The ice coldness of the lake envelops me and attacks me like an army of tiny Spartans, arrows at the ready; was the lake really this deep? One moment I was only in it up to my ankles, the next moment I can't even see the bottom.

And then everything went black.

"What the hell do you think you are doing, Weasley?" A biter voice hisses as my senses awaken. Why am I here, how am I not dead?

"mhmmmn." I mumble, I open my eyes a crack but even the moonlight is too strong so I quickly close them again.

"Well, Weasley, what have you got to say for yourself?" The voice is too low, too harsh, I cover my ears and shake my head.

"No no no no no." I mumble over and over, as if the monosyllabic beat of the word would keep me from the madness with in.

"I just plucked your half dead body out of a lake, you cannot expect me to leave you here without an explanation. What were you thinking, what were you doing?"

"Swimming." I replied simply, no point in lying to the man.

"Well you weren't doing a very good job of it." He sneered, I recognised the voice, but I don't know where from.

"That's because I can't swim."

"Then why were you trying?" The person asked, I tried again to open my eyes but it took too much strength. He didn't sound as angry any more, his voice had an almost soft edge to it.

"Because Harry likes girls who can swim, so I wanted to practise. I didn't know it would go wrong." I was being honest, I had always feared water; this was my way of overcoming the fear, instead I'd just increased it.

"You silly little girl." The voice rumbled dangerously. He paused after every word to make his message clearer. I don't know why I was so upset that he didn't approve of my actions, it's not as if I knew him.

This time I did open my eyes.

It was too dark to tell who it was.

"Almost killing yourself for that stupid Potter boy, how silly, how stupid, how bloody ridiculous.." He carried on with his incessant mutterings and made to walk away, I sat up to try and follow but my head just fogged over and black crystals appeared around the corners of my vision. The world started spinning, everything was topsy turvy and I felt like I wanted to throw up. But then a hand grabbed my shoulder and a face came into my vision. Focusing on the Slytherin's face managed to stop the world from falling apart around me.

"Are you okay?" He asked, a flash of genuine concern crossed his features and flicked through his eyes before he quickly covered it up again with his hard exterior.

"F-fine thanks." I mumbled and brought my hand to my forehead. I was shaking, what was wrong with me? He offered me his hand, I took it and he slowly pulled me to my feet, still keeping hold of me when I stood to steady me and keep me from falling back over. His hands were soft and efficient, so juxtaposed to the harsh stature he held and the disgusted twist of his mouth.

"Anyway Weasley-" He began.

"How do you know my name?" I demanded, rather harshly considering he had just saved me, my mind felt light and floaty, I was slightly confused.

"Oh please, your ginger hair and gangly stature makes you stand out against all other people of your blood." He remarked snidely. I hated it when people were rude about my family, I couldn't help thinking that if we did have dirty blood we wouldn't get half as much grief.

"Hey! I am proud to be a Weasley and-" I started to tell him, shout at him, he might have just saved me but that gave him no right to offend me.

However my shouting seemed to have caused a bit of a rustle from a little way off. Fear flitted across the boy's face, his mouth opened and his body momentarily froze. Then he let go of my shoulder, I felt wavy on my feet. But then his hand was back on me, but now it was over my mouth. I tried to wriggle away but he just came closer, moved behind me and grabbed me around the middle in a couple of swift seconds, it caught me off guard, I tried to scream and kick, my arms flailed around as much as much as his vice like grip would allow. Panic rose in my body, I hated the feeling of restriction. I felt so weak, it reminded me of Tom. Of evil. Of darkness. And now Tom's back, the thought filled me with even more fear. I felt like such a baby but a tear trailed down my cheek and began to hit the Slytherin's hand, the fight in me was gone. His grip loosened a little after that. I think he sensed it too. What ever happened to the fiery Ginny who would have thought tooth and nail against someone like this? I felt like I'd left her in the lake, maybe that part of me really had drowned.

"Just trust me, ginger." He whispered in my ear, his voice was slightly shaky and it scared me more than anything else.

"Well it came from over here." A snake like voice hissed, it was so vile that I actually felt physically sick. Never before had a voice had such a negative effect on me. It was totally different to the voice currently whispering reassurances in my ear and telling me to keep quiet; his voice was soft and musical but deep and rough around the edges, the quickness that it could flip between angry and calm scared me a little.

"It's gone now, master, you shouldn't worry yourself." A scuffly, fearful voice piped up. It spoke in hurried tones as if it was in a rush to get its words out.

"Quiet!" The other voice roared, "And do not tell me what to do."

"S-sorry master." Master? Who would be referred to as master now a days? Only one name sprang to mine and that was impossible.

"Come on Wormtail, we need to get back. The disposal of the supposed chosen one still needs more thought." I was thankful they were leaving. But wait, what? Wormtail? I recognised the name so much but could not put my finger on how. And chosen one? Only Harry was ever called that.

"Come on, let's go." The person mumbled quietly before letting go of me, grabbing my forearm and pulling me forward. I was unsteady on my feet and my head felt like it was going to implode, I couldn't deal with the fast pace he was pulling me along at. With a sigh he picked me up in a bridal lift and ran across the grounds. Moonlight danced off of the beautiful, deadly lake. The grounds looked majestic and unnatural, moths and more magical creatures danced around in a glorious grey glow. The sky was clear, I noticed that it was actually more midnight blue than black. It's funny the things you notice when you're in a stranger's arms. The castle looked huge and terrifying, not like the home I knew and loved it to be. The Quidditch pitch just looked eerie and abandoned, like some derelict battleground from years ago.

And then my attention moved to the boy. His arms felt muscular and sculpted wrapped around my body, the moonlight danced in the reflection of his eyes as he looking forward, a determined grimace on his face. He looked so serious, so set on the task ahead. And gosh were his eyes beautiful, such a deep, honey brown with a golden rim around the edges of them, they seemed to reflect the view around us like small mirrors. They were framed by such dark eyelashes I felt myself becoming envious, they were beautiful, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. And his hair, his hair was dark and wavy; just long enough to fall into his eyes, which it did quite often, which seemed to annoy him quite a lot, which secretly amused me to no end. It was the only imperfect thing about him, the only thing that didn't seem to go his way. His face was perfect, his nose was structured and had a small bump to it, and he had a strong square jawline and amazing lips. His skin was tanned, I liked that about him. It made his eyes stand out so much more.

"Are you staring at me?" He enquired with an unreadable expression on his face. Oh shoot, I really was.

"No." I lied before turning away and inwardly cringing, by now we were entering the castle but he still didn't put me down. His footsteps echoed as he purposely walked through the hallways. He was pretty confident bearing in mind we had both broken curfew by a longshot. That was the point, what time was it? I know that I'd left my dorm at one o'clock in the morning as it was. And why was he out there at that time as well? And who were those other people? And then the questions resurfaced from earlier, who was master, and Wormtail, and what did they want with my Harry? Well, I wish he was my Harry any way. I would have asked him to put him down, but I quite liked the feeling of being in his arms, it made me feel safe and secure, why I trusted him I do not know.

"This is your stop." He said before placing me on my feet, I stumbled for a few steps before regaining my balance. I didn't even realise we'd gotten to the Gryffindor portrait.

"So it is." I mumbled my reply, I didn't want him to see my disappointment. Before I could even thank him he strolled down the corridor and away from me without a second glance, his abruptness surprised me but then I shouldn't have expected anything less. His leaving seemed to trigger an emptiness with in. It was just such an odd sensation, one I didn't particularly like either.

As I wondered into my dorm and laid down on my bed as quietly as possible, I tried to take in the night's events. It was all a bit of a blur really. And I was simply exhausted.

And then a thought struck me.

I went swimming in the lake, I could feel the dampness in my hair to prove it, yet my clothes didn't feel wet. I looked down at my body only to see I wasn't in my skirt and red Gryffindor jumper any more, I was in something different altogether. A green Slytherin Quidditch jersey, on the front in read _'03, Zabini'_.

So finally my rescuer, my knight in shining armour, had a name.


End file.
